We're both on the ground, bleeding
by Avari20
Summary: Sequel to Marked. Bellamy won't let this be the end. Will Clarke? Complete.


"Get out of the way, Bellamy."

He shook his dark head. "Not until you talk to me."

I barked a disbelieving laugh. "I tried that. It worked out just fine."

Bellamy grimaced, guilt making him look away.

He should. He was lucky I wasn't calling him all the names that had run through my head all night in between bouts of angry tears. I hadn't slept a wink until the wee hours of the morning, when exhaustion finally claimed me.

By then I had reached the stoic, icy silent stage. Damn Bellamy. Just...damn him.

But this wasn't the time or the place. Too many people were around, even this early in the morning. The mist hadn't even cleared yet.

They'd all know what happened before the day was over anyway, I thought with a fresh wash of humiliation.

I swallowed it back and stuck out my chin. No, I was not going to give in. I was going to remain detached. Bellamy made his choice last night when he went off with that girl in the darkness and let her mark him. He was nothing to me now.

Or he _would_ be nothing, I silently vowed. I would _make_ him nothing to me. I was not going to be the piner. I was not going to be the person with their heart broken.

I was going to be fine, dammit.

I shoved past him and took the path I needed to the gate, my basket in my hand. I didn't need any of the herbs I was going to pick, but I couldn't stand another second inside the walls.

The forest opened up in front of me, wide and green. Earth had recovered from a nuclear apocalypse. I could survive Bellamy Blake.

Brush crackled under my boots.

I felt him behind me before he ever said anything. "Am I not making myself clear? I don't want to talk to you. I don't even want to see you. Get lost."

"No. Leaving you alone was my first mistake."

I whirled around. We were far out of sight now, away from prying ears, so there wasn't a single thing holding me back. "Mistake? Do you want to talk about mistakes? I trusted you! I trusted you to at least try and understand where I was coming from when I told you what was on my mind!"

"You were telling me that you didn't want me!" he thundered. "How was I supposed to react? Tell you that was fine? It was not fucking fine."

"I was telling you that I wanted to know—you know what? It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore." I turned.

He was right there in front of me, blocking my path. Standing on the slope almost brought us eye to eye. "No way. Not this time. You don't get to run away from this. We're going to fucking fight this out until we're both on the ground bleeding, Princess, if that's what it takes."

"If that's what it takes for what? For me to suddenly realize last night was all a bad dream and you don't really have a hickey on your neck right now?'

"Until you realize that I love you and I'm not giving up. Last night I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I'm gonna own it, but I'm not going to let it get in the way of what we've got."

"We are done!" I almost shouted. "Do you hear me? We are done, Bellamy. It's not just the hickey. It was never just about the hickey."

"Then what's it about, Clarke?" He looked at me, bewildered but determined. "Huh? Tell me what it's about and I'll fix it."

I didn't say anything. I didn't owe him an answer.

That's not true, part of me whispered.

Tears suddenly pricked my eyes. Stupid, stupid tear ducts, this was not the time to act up.

Bellamy noticed. "Don't do that," he ordered in a soft voice. It sounded more like a plea. "Don't do that, okay?" He reached up-

I turned my head away just before his fingers made contact.

Could mutual pain jump out of people's bodies and sit in the air between them? It felt like it right then.

Why did this all go so wrong?

"I thought about not telling you," I admitted after a minute. "If _you'd_ told _me_ something like that, I don't know how I would have felt. Probably inadequate." I glanced up at him through my lashes.

He was staring at me, mouth tight, like he was waiting for the punch to land.

"I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want it eating at me either. Because I didn't want secrets between us." I faced him head on, barely holding the tears back. "Why should I be afraid to tell you something?"

His eyes were starting to shine.

"Maybe you were right. Maybe the fact that it even occurred to me meant things between us-"

"No." He shook his head hard. "No, that is _not_ what I said. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Well, maybe it's the truth anyway!" I wasn't going to get caught up in the what-ifs. There was no place for that in my life. I should never have thought that anyone could calmly discuss the possibility of dating other people and not fall apart. Life didn't work that way, especially not life on Earth.

I ran a hand down my face, clearing my throat and looking at the dirt. "It's done with now. We were both wrong and that's that."

"You weren't wrong."

I looked up.

"You weren't right, but you weren't wrong. You told me something I didn't want to hear. I should have-" he cut himself off, closing his eyes for a second. His nostrils flared. "Look, the fact is that I love you way too fucking much and I couldn't handle the possibility that you didn't."

Wait. "You thought I didn't love you? How could you-"

"Get real, Clarke!" he burst out. "Just...think about it. How would you feel?"

I clamped my mouth shut.

"I wanted to show you exactly how it would feel." His jaw ticked. "But I took it too far."

Images of last night—the hand holding, the hickey, knowing what happened, imagining all the things that might have happened—ripped my heart out all over again.

He searched my eyes. "That doesn't mean we're done. I don't want it to mean we're done." He inhaled and stood up straighter. "You want to date other guys? Go ahead."

It was like my lungs stopped functioning. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Why? Because you feel guilty?"

"Because that's what you wanted." He didn't look happy.

There was no reason he should, of course, but he was leaving out something important. "It was just as much for you as for me."

"Why would I want to date anybody else?"

Frustration bit at me. "Because you _can_. How else are you going to know if we're right for each other?"

"Princess, do you know how many people I've slept with since we landed?"

Why the hell was he reminding me? Of course I knew.

"I can tell the difference between fucking someone just because and being in love. If either one of us has to figure that out, it's you." He shifted to his other foot, slightly away from me. "You're eighteen. Age doesn't mean shit to me, but it's still young. There's still things to explore...especially now that you aren't afraid of being killed every day."

I was still afraid, but I knew what he meant. Life was short. So very short. "I never wanted to have sex with someone else."

He peered down at me. "You didn't?"

"No. A kiss or something, maybe, but nothing more. I didn't need more."

"What do you need, Princess? Get it out."

All or nothing. There wasn't anything more to lose. "I need to know you won't regret me. That I won't regret you."

Too late for that now, though.

I swallowed and hugged myself.

A big hand cupped my face and then he was kissing me.

It wasn't like yesterday's kiss. It was deeper.

But I wasn't ready for it, so I pulled back.

He let me. "Does it feel like I regret you?"

I sniffed. "Damn you."

"Take me back, Princess."

Everything I had in me was at war between wanting to and hating that I felt that way. I shook my head.

Bellamy didn't flinch. "You love me."

I couldn't look at him.

"I love you."

"I'm angry."

"So am I. I'm sick, and I'm guilty, and I hate every second of you standing there like I ripped your heart out." He rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Just don't give up, okay? Don't give up on us. I can't fight if you won't let me."

The hickey on his neck was even worse than I thought. Under the cold light of morning, it looked like it took up half of the skin there.

Did I want him to fight for me?

Did I want to fight for him?

"Tell me the truth, Bellamy. Did you have sex with her?"

He stilled. "No."

"How far did it go?"

"Don't ask, Clarke. Please."

"How far, Bellamy?"

"My shirt came off and I had my hand in her pants."

I walked away a few feet, dropping my basket and putting my hands on my hips. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"That's as far as it went."

It was far enough, I wanted to snap.

No. No, that was not going to happen. I was going to think this through. Shove aside all the feelings and concentrate on the facts.

Bellamy and I had a fight. We disagreed on something. Neither of us were right. It was a subjective argument.

Bellamy was hurt, wanted payback and went off with a girl. There was heavy petting and—other things.

They did not have sex. He stopped and came to me. He told me the truth.

Facts.

If only it were that easy.

"I've trusted my life in your hands a thousand times since the start," I told him quietly. "I still do. Love isn't the problem here, Bellamy. It's whether or not we can trust each other emotionally."

That settled over him like a heavy cloud, sinking his shoulders. He nodded, but I wasn't sure he knew what he was doing.

He turned to leave-

-then spun back around. "I'm not giving up."

"Bellamy..."

"No! Screw that, Princess. I'm not going down this way. If you don't love me, there's nothing I can do but try to fix that. If you want to fuck someone else, go for it. In fact, go fuck everybody in the goddamn Grounder camp for all I care. I'm still going to be here. I'm still going to love you. There's nothing you can do about that."

With that he turned and stalked off, leaving me an emotional wreck.

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

Forget gathering herbs I didn't even need. I sat on the ground right where I was, head in my hands, letting the tears slip out.

I have no idea how long I sat there. Hours. Days. Maybe even weeks. I was so lost in my misery I didn't mark the time.

This was just such a mess.

If there were an easy answer, I would have reached out and grabbed it with both hands, no questions asked. Reality meant accepting there wasn't one, and after awhile, my mind started turning the problem over, looking for answers.

I had a choice: stay away from Bellamy and try to heal by doing exactly what he said or fight for what we had built.

It wouldn't be simple. Or quick. The humiliation and hurt were still fresh. His goddamn hickey hadn't even healed over yet.

What would it be like, going through camp and feeling everyone stare at me?

I shoved that out of my mind. That couldn't be a factor.

What if I did give up? What if I gave up right now? Would I be happy? Or would I regret never giving it a try?

If I gave up, I wouldn't be the only one free. Bellamy would be too.

My heart clenched. No. I didn't want him to be free.

I tried to picture myself kissing another man.

My heart squeezed even tighter.

So there it was. It physically hurt to think of giving up and going our separate ways.

If we failed, I'd know I tried my hardest.

If we simply walked away from each other, I would never know if we could have succeeded.

Was it foolish? Maybe.

Was it something I had to do? Yes.

But not right away. We needed time and space. We needed to breathe.

I looked up at the path Bellamy had disappeared on.

Earth had made us savage in the time since we landed on her. She could cradle us in her hands and then drop us into hell. We had to learn to live with that.

I was going to learn to live with this.

_No_, I thought, standing up. I wasn't going to learn to live with it. I was going to overcome. I was going to kick it in the ass. I was going to give it the middle finger and thrive, dammit.

Bellamy Blake was not going to know what hit him.

I snatched up my basket and marched up the path, straight toward my future.

**_The End_**


End file.
